


Under the Apple Boughs

by Maedhrosly



Category: Howl's Moving Castle - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maedhrosly/pseuds/Maedhrosly
Summary: Sophie should've learned her lesson by then; though things such as 7-league boots might exist, the world did not in fact adhere to the neat and tidy rules she had always believed it had. This applied to Happily Ever Afters too.
Relationships: Lettie Hatter/Ben Sullivan | Wizard Suliman, Michael Fisher/Martha Hatter, Sophie Hatter/Howl Pendragon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 42





	1. In which the Hatter Sisters Move Out

‘I don't mind, as long as I can come and go,’ Calcifer said. ‘Besides, it's raining out there in Market Chipping.’

‘Well then!’ Howl grinned. ‘I suppose you can stay, unless you’d like an umbrella, of course?’

‘I’ll stay,’ Calcifer resettled himself in the grate, ‘I am rather hungry though.’

It seemed – though it had really not been long since they had enjoyed the contents of Mrs. Fairfax’s hamper – that the others were too. Lettie, Martha, Fanny, and the rest of the veritable crowd of guests were all looking at Howl and Sophie with thinly veiled expectation. Sophie raised her eyebrows at Howl in a look that was part reproach, part question.

‘Goodness Sophie, why haven’t you offered our guests anything to eat? How terribly rude of you!’ he said, already being pushed towards the pantry by an increasingly irate Sophie.

‘It is not my responsibility to tell you how you ought to treat guests, Howl’ she said, though her tone indicated she was not quite so annoyed as she appeared, ‘Nor do I particularly feel inclined to play your housekeeper.’ Though despite this she turned over her shoulder to address her family. ‘Please, make yourselves comfortable!’ Then, emphatically back to Howl, ‘And we aren’t married.’

Howl, surprisingly, had no retort; he merely furrowed his brow and pouted in characteristic dramatic fashion. Had Sophie been paying closer attention, she might’ve noticed what could be described as a disappointment in his newly deepened green eyes, but she was occupied with locating something that could feed everyone.

After some searching in the pantry, they found enough crumpets and Sophie coaxed Calcifer into lowering his head so that they might heat a kettle for tea and toast the crumpets (‘Come now Calcifer, they are much nicer this way, and _of course_ there’s enough for you, you may have your pick of the lot’), as Prince Justin addressed Howl.

‘Thank you for your generosity Wizard Howl, but I really must hurry to my brother. I don’t suppose you happen to have some useful way I might… arrive there by this evening?’

They had moved the Kingsbury portal, but Fanny offered her carriage – really his Highness needn’t worry, Mr. Smith’s house was really not that far from the mansion, and besides the walk would do her good – and so the Prince set off, with assurances that Howl and Suliman would be hearing from his brother very soon.

That left Fanny, Martha, Lettie, Wizard Suliman, and Mrs. Fairfax, as well as Michael, Howl, and Sophie, packed into the room with not enough seating until Howl conjured it; lovely and soft, and upholstered in mossy green velvet. Admiring his handiwork, Sophie felt his arm around her back, the gentle weight of his hand at the top of her hip. She flushed lightly, feeling Martha and Lettie’s intense gazes, and lightly swatted it away when he himself sat down and softly, almost imperceptibly pulled at it, evidently wanting her to settle herself on his lap. Whilst she wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea, Sophie was very conscious of the close attention her family and friends were affording her. Such an affectionate display before such an attentive audience, after the whirlwind of the day’s events, was rather more than Sophie was prepared for at that moment. Instead, she settled for allowing her fingers to linger against Howl’s for longer than necessary in what she hoped was a conciliatory gesture, and sat on a stool between his feet and the fireplace, where she could tend to the kettle.

Once they were all settled with steaming cups of tea and crisp golden crumpets dripping in butter and a set honey that Mrs. Fairfax had produced from her hamper, which had caused Calcifer to glow a soft, warm gold, and settle contentedly amid the logs, Mrs. Fairfax spoke. ‘What are you all going to do now? What is this hair-raising happily ever after, Mr. Pendragon?’

Before Howl could respond, Fanny said, ‘Well, the girls must come live with me for a while! There’s plenty of room in Mr. Smith’s house, and it’s been so awfully long since they were together, and-’ but before she could finish, Lettie interrupted.

‘Martha and I have an idea, and we think it’s rather splendid, so it would be lovely if you heard us out,’ pointedly looking at Fanny, who smiled.

‘Then go on, my darling.’

‘We want to stay in the house in Market Chipping, at least for a while; the three of us, that is if Sophie –’ and here she looked at Sophie with the expression that, since their childhood, had meant _agree with everything I say right now, for your own benefit as well as mine_ , ‘would like to? Mrs. Fairfax was saying to me that I might have a break from my apprenticeship before I go to study with Wizard Suliman, and Mr. Cesari has said Martha may leave the dorms there too, provided she promises the most absolute punctuality for all her shifts, and as you said Fanny, we haven’t seen Sophie in months, and-’

And here Lettie was cut off by Martha; ‘And of course it means Sophie can be courted – properly courted – by Howl! Which is entirely no less than she deserves, and I am only willing to give my blessing for them to marry if he does it properly – I cannot accept anything less!’

Michael, whose arm was loosely draped over Martha’s shoulder and was loosely toying with a golden ringlet, poorly stifled a snort with his free hand. He knew as well as Sophie did that Martha could be capable of making Howl’s life very difficult – in a way, to a greater extent than Sophie could – if she wished to.

Given her understanding of what being ‘properly courted’ by the Sorcerer Howl Pendragon meant, Sophie wasn’t entirely sure she agreed with Martha. Nevertheless, she did rather like the idea of living with her sisters again. ‘I could still work in the flower shop…’

‘And so could I!’ Lettie added.

‘That does sound lovely, girls,’ Fanny said, ‘Though I will miss you dearly, but I do suppose the three of you have grown rather more independent that when I last saw the three of you together last; but I will be visiting often you must know, and I will insist that you come and meet Mr. Smith and your new step-siblings as soon as possible!’

‘Lovely indeed.’ This time Howl managed to break into the conversation, ‘though there is one problem…’

Relocating the interior of the castle’s actual location had in the end proved far simpler that it had before, when they moved it from Porthaven to Market Chipping. This was probably largely due to the fact that Calcifer himself did not need to be transported, and that Mrs. Fairfax and Wizard Suliman were able to both lend their knowledge in adapting the spell to account for this, and their spellcasting ability. As it had before, the room bent and stretched to accommodate the new space it filled; this time the empty mansion. Howl had attempted to protest, but he had known it was futile before he’d started. The new set up was so; the three Ingary doors still led out to the flower field, mansion drive, and the garden in Market Chipping, but much like the Wales portal also served as the front door to Megan’s house from the other direction, by use of a specific key the Hatter sisters were able to once more set foot in their childhood home.

Sophie and Lettie would both work in the flower shop for an indefinite period of time, before Lettie went off to study with Wizard Suliman, and Sophie… well, she supposed she would discover what Howl had meant exactly, when he had said ‘happily ever after’. They had used magic to move much of the old furniture back in from where Fanny had put it into storage, and once they were finished transporting Lettie and Martha’s clothes back too, Fanny gathered her daughters into a hug and promised to visit them the very next day. She and Mrs. Fairfax – who she had invited to stay the night – headed off out the mansion door, down the footpath to where Fanny now lived with Mr Smith.

In the front room of the Hatter residence, Michael and Martha were in one corner, their foreheads tenderly touching, murmuring their goodbyes. In another, Wizard Suliman was explaining to Lettie that she would be able to start her apprenticeship as soon as she wanted to, and she in turn assured him that she was sure it wouldn’t be long and if he wanted to, he was very welcome to visit here. Sophie found herself left the most alone with Howl she had been since becoming young again. He was holding her hands in his, and gazing down at her, much like he had a few hours earlier. Though… perhaps she was imagining it, or perhaps she was still a little giddy… there was an intensity to his expression, as if he was seeing her properly for the first time. She supposed that wasn’t really all that far from the truth. She gave him a small, private smile.

‘Goodnight, Howl.’

That seemed to jolt him out of his reverie, and the intense gaze was replaced with a signature charming grin. ‘Goodnight, Sophie.’

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

Howl didn’t say anything. He brought Sophie’s hands up almost to his chest, and squeezed them gently, before wordlessly following Suliman and Michael out the door. Sophie watched him leave, massaging the part of her palm that still tingled from where his confusingly rough thumb had brushed it, utterly perplexed.


	2. In Which Sophie Changes her Style

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kind responses! I'm very sorry that this chapter is so long in the uploading, it took me a while to decide what I wanted to do with the story, and what direction I wanted it to go in, but I do plan on trying for a multi-chapter story! Anyway, enjoy xx

Sophie woke in her own room for the first time in months. The morning sunshine dappled across her pillow, and she luxuriated in the space of her bed after all that time cooped up in her cubby. But Sophie was not one for laziness, and it was a new day. She bathed and took care to wash her hair; relieving it of the dust, frizz and tangles that had resulted from her haphazard treatment of it whilst an old woman, and had remained despite regaining its youthful length, colour, and thickness. Though, Sophie thought, even if she had been inclined to take pains with its maintenance, she doubted she would have had sufficient opportunity, given Howl’s dominion over the bathroom.

All the dresses and skirts Sophie owned were the same unobtrusive grey. This had been ideal for her before the spell, but now she found herself wishing for something vibrant to wear; besides, the grey would look out of place in the flower shop. A small voice in her head went on about how unnecessary ‘flashy’ clothes were, but a louder voice – which sounded very much like Lettie – insisted that there was nothing wrong with dressing with confidence. Sophie decided that when she had the money to, she would buy fabric to make new clothes for herself – unless… She laid the lightweight summer dress she intended to wear out on the bed.

‘Now then,’ she addressed it, ‘You’ve served me very well these past few years, and I’m very grateful for that. But I think it is high time you changed colour; how about green? And you don’t need that collar anymore – get rid of it!’

Lo and behold, the high-buttoned collar of the dress vanished, and the neckline rearranged itself into a squared shape. The grey began to shift hue through silvers, blues, and indigo, before settling on a rich bottle green. Where the sunlight played on the folds, there was the slightest quality of gentle iridescence; like the body of a dragonfly. It was not as ostentatious as Howl’s taste, but that would not have suited Sophie’s fancy; she was very pleased with the results, and found the unexpected – but not unwanted – new shimmery quality of the fabric very lovely indeed. Also unexpected, Sophie noticed as she put it on, was the fine addition of delicately embroidered sprigs of baby’s breath around the hem, cuffs, and neckline. The dress had clearly gone out of its way to please her, and she murmured as quiet ‘well done’ to it, feeling only a little daft.

As she came down the stairs, Sophie smelled breakfast being cooked. This was unusual. To her surprise as she entered the kitchen, she saw that Lettie – dressed in a buttery yellow muslin that very few other than she could pull off – was already awake, chipper, and at the stove.

‘Good morning! You’re finally up!’

 _Finally?_ Sophie thought. ‘What time is it?’

‘Half-past eight,’ said Lettie, handing Sophie a bowl of porridge and honey, ‘Martha’s already left for Cesari’s.’

‘Martha… left already?’

‘Yes, a little while ago actually.’ Lettie sat opposite Sophie with her own bowl. She noticed her sister’s slightly crestfallen expression. ‘Sophie, you fought a demon yesterday. You’re allowed to rest. And Martha and I aren’t little children any more.’

Sophie smiled. ‘You’re right Lettie. And this is excellent porridge – is the honey–’

‘Mrs. Fairfax’s? It is! No enchantment in it, but her bees somehow find sweeter flowers than anyone else’s. She’s sent down a whole crate.’

‘How kind of her!’ Sophie said.

‘When did you get that new dress?’ Lettie asked. ‘I’ve never seen it before – it’s lovely on you, the colour is marvellous.’

Sophie opened her mouth to reply, but Lettie interrupted her sister as the realisation dawned on her. ‘Did you…?’

Sophie laughed. ‘Yes, I told it to change colour and loose the fussy collar it had. I didn’t really know what I wanted it to be exactly.’

‘That’s a marvellous trick.’ Lettie was in awe. ‘And you look very chic Sophie, I think even Fanny would be a bit jealous. I wish I could tell my clothes what to be.’

‘Lettie dear, I would be more than happy to pass on a message if ever you wanted me to.’

After finishing their breakfast, the two older Hatter sisters crossed their garden and entered the flower shop. Sophie gave Lettie a tour of the shop, how she had organised it, and how to take payment from customers. Lettie had brought a carved wooden chest filled with jars of herbs and other rarer magical ingredients (‘I might not be able to talk life into things, but I did learn a thing or two from Mrs. Fairfax about how to liven up flowers in other ways.’) which she set up behind the counter, while Sophie carried the buckets of sunflowers, lilies, and other large flowers to the front steps of the shop, with firm instructions to stand up straight, look bright and cheery, and smell lovely.

‘Howl and Michael should be here soon with more flowers to restock with soon,’ Sophie said, and as if on cue the back door opened, and Michael backed into the shop with a crate of flowers in his arms, and two more floating behind him.

‘Excellent timing!’ Lettie exclaimed. ‘He’s very well trained, I’m sure Martha will be delighted.’

Michael flushed, and muttered, ‘Good morning,’

Sophie noticed a smudge on the corner of his mouth. ‘Come here Michael,’ she said, pulling out her handkerchief to wipe away the sticky pink lipstick that Martha had taken to wearing regularly when she turned fifteen. ‘I’m sure fear of angering Mr. Cesari wasn’t the only reason Martha was in such a rush to leave this morning.’

At this, Michael flushed deeper and stuttered protestations, but Sophie just reached up to ruffle his hair affectionately.

‘Where’s Wizard Howl?’ asked Lettie.

Sophie realised that he had not followed Michael into the shop.

‘Oh,’ Michael said, ‘He went to Wales pretty soon after we got back last night. I didn’t see him this morning.’ And, when he noticed the concern on Sophie’s face, ‘Oh I’m sure he’s fine, it’s not something he’s never done before.’

‘Still…’ Sophie didn’t want to finish the sentence with what she was thinking; ‘… what if he’s bored of me already’.

‘If we don’t see him before noon, we can worry Sophie,’ Michael said gently, ‘But we will see him.’

Of course, he was right. They had had perhaps four customers before Howl came waltzing in through the front door of the shop. He looked slightly more dishevelled than he usually did, but it was clear he had tidied himself up from the state he had been in the day before. He stopped in the doorway, haloed by the sunlight flooding in, and looking part mad, and part angelic. ‘Morning Michael. Lettie.’ He nodded at each before turning to Sophie, who thought she saw his eyes flit down and up her. ‘Sophie.’ Howl touched his forehead, as if doffing a hat he wasn’t wearing. ‘I’m afraid I cannot stay and help, there is urgent business I must attend!’ And as quickly as he had arrived, he left through the back door to the castle. Sophie, perplexed by his secretive behaviour and – though she was loathe to admit it even to herself – hurt by his lack of acknowledgement of her ‘new’ dress, was of half a mind to follow him, but was saved from the indignity of moping by a fresh wave of customers bursting through the door.

Meanwhile, Howl sat in his front room, his face in his hands, and feeling very foolish. He really ought to have said something proper to Sophie, but for one of the few times in his life he had been briefly struck utterly dumb. She had looked lovely, though Howl felt he really required a better word. Really, he thought that she had looked just as lovely that May Day when he first met her, but the green dress was nothing short of wonderful to him. Set against the green, and bathed in the golden sunlight, Sophie’s hair had looked just like embers. He was very foolish indeed. He would have to go back and tell her then. But… Howl thought of how she had avoided his affection the night before; perhaps he had misunderstood her. It was awfully complicated, having a heart again, he thought. He wanted to go back and… apologise? Compliment her profusely? Perhaps, but unfortunately he would have to take some time on the matter; Sophie, he hoped, could wait. There was the matter of the letter that had arrived through the Kingsbury door earlier that morning, which lay open on the table, written in the hasty scrawl of Wizard Suliman.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from 'Fern Hill' by Dylan Thomas, characters are creation of Diana Wynne Jones of course xx


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